The Shadowfoot and the Silencer
by muhnemma
Summary: A once honourable vampire and a noble thief team up after a chance encounter in Skingrad jail. Their adventures take them to the forests of Valenwood and the peaks of High Rock, but demons from the past become very real dangers in the present.


**Prologue**

Are you listening to me?"

Vilveryn finished the page he was reading and carefully marked his place in the book before looking up at Silvius. The man's face was a mass of violent colours, none of them attractive. In contrast, Vilveryn's skin was its usual white, as smooth and unblemished as marble. His composure only served to further infuriate Silvius, who flushed an even deeper shade of red. Vilveryn didn't think it was possible to annoy the man any more than he already was, but thought he would try anyway. Raising an eyebrow, he calmly asked, "Pardon?"

Ah, he could smell the blood as it rushed to Silvius's cheeks! If he were any other man he might make a delicious feast, but unfortunately noble blood wasn't nearly as exquisite as one might expect. A beggar pulled from the back alleys of the Imperial City slums wouldn't taste as bitter as Silvius, and there would be no chance of contamination by the stupidity that had been carefully instilled in him by generations of very selective breeding.

"You should pay closer attention to your instructions," Silvius hissed through gritted teeth. He pressed his white knuckles onto the table in what was clearly supposed to be a threatening gesture, which was somewhat ruined by his ridiculous golden curls flopping into his eyes. _Idiot, _Vilveryn thought, caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation. _How sweet it would be to snap your neck. _Alas, such possibilities, inviting as they were, could never happen. Silvius might be an incompetent assassin and leader but his mother was a powerful figure within the Dark Brotherhood, and as such Vilveryn was stuck with him for the foreseeable future.

"Forgive me," he sighed. "I was momentarily distracted. You now have my undivided attention."

Silvius blinked, surprised, but recovered quickly. "Well, I – I should damn well think so!" At Vilveryn's warning look, which clearly cautioned him not to test his luck, he hastily added, "We've been contacted by the sister of a woman who wishes revenge on a man who… Well, the details aren't important. All you need to know is that the target is your friend's head guard."

Vilveryn frowned. "My friend?" he asked slowly.

"The Count of Skingrad."

He grinned, displaying his wickedly sharp fangs and causing Silvius to squirm away from him. "I assure you that the Count holds no love for his kind."

"Be that as it may," Silvius said, trying and failing to hide his discomfort, "your mission stands. Assassinate his head guard."

"Are there any special requirements?"

Silvius cleared his throat and rolled his eyes to the ceiling, avoiding Vilveryn's intense gaze. "She wishes you to…" He gave a small cough. "Well, she wishes you to return his privates to her in a box."

Vilveryn threw his head back and allowed the laughter to bubble from his throat, an icy sound that seemed to make the damp sanctuary grow several degrees colder. Although Silvius was proud of his noble title he wasn't particularly fussy about who shared his bed, and he had gained a degree of infamy for spoiling the reputations of girls of the lower orders. Yet he shied away from naming parts of his own anatomy!

"I fail to see the humor in mutilating a man," Silvius sniffed.

The vampire pushed his chair away from the table and rose to his feet. "You are ill at ease in your position, Silvius. You cannot grasp the beauty in the hunt and the kill, the poetry of spilt blood. You know no joy in sending souls into the void."

"And you know it too well, vampire," he spat. "You took pleasure when you ripped out the throat of your own so-"

His words were cut off as Vilveryn's long, slender fingers slipped around his throat. He had no time to fight, no time to struggle, because Vilveryn had moved too quickly to be seen. The vampire's lips stretched into an obscene grin, fangs suddenly sharper than they had been a moment before, as murder flashed in his eyes. "Be careful, _brother_," he hissed, inclining his head towards where Silvius's pulse hammered in his neck and letting the tips of his fangs graze the delicate skin. "Insult me again and you will experience the joy of Sithis's void first hand."

Giving his neck one final threatening squeeze, he thrust Silvius into the wall and spun on his heels, striding from the room with the man's pitiful gasps and coughs echoing in his ears.

*******

Miri bit down viciously on her bottom lip, forcing back the wince that threatened to contort her face. She didn't know the people who jostled against her in the busy street and she wasn't likely to meet them again, but it was a point of pride for her not to show the slightest sign of pain to these strangers. She'd had far worse injuries than the purple bruise that blossomed brilliantly over her ribs, and she was damned if she was going to let such a small wound bother her.

The crowd thinned rapidly as she reached the town gates. Night was falling, and those brave enough to risk a robbing or knifing on the dark streets to reach the tavern weren't foolish enough to venture outside the safety of the thick stone walls that encircled the city. As she arrived in front of the gates the guards stared at her incredulously, seemingly unable to comprehend why she would want to leave. This was something she had been expecting: at just over five feet she wasn't an imposing figure, and strangers often thought her a soft target. Those acquainted with her knew differently.

"Are you sure you want to be leaving the city at this time of night, miss?" One of them asked. The other leered at her openly, his eyes probing her body beneath the tunic and breeches she had donned in favour of her usual leather armor, hoping that the clothes would afford her more discretion. Miri gritted her teeth and clenched her hands to stop her fingers twitching towards the daggers concealed beneath her sleeves. In her mind's eye she saw the steel flying through the air, flashing in the dim light, to slice cleanly through his throat. She pushed away the vision, bile rising in her throat. She was _not _Ranulf: she didn't kill people because she disliked them, or kick them in the ribs because they had been careless with their words.

She bowed her head, the picture of feminine docility, and allowed her chestnut locks to fall briefly around her face. When she looked up again, her emerald eyes sparkled with unshed tears and her chin quivered. "My father," she said in a voice that was little more than a whisper. "He's very ill. I came to get him medicine." Here she produced a small phial from her pocket and held it out to the two guards, confident that they wouldn't be able to tell medicine from an invisibility potion. "I need to get it to him before the night is out."

"The night holds all kind of dangers," the leering guard said, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. "Bandits, murderers, and the like. Perhaps I could escort you-"

"Your shift doesn't end until dawn, Morrelus," the other guard snapped, glaring at his companion. Morrelus shrugged and, with a last lingering look at Miri, strolled further along the wall. Turning to Miri, the remaining guard said, "I understand you need to help your father, miss, but you must be careful. We've had reports of a vampire sighting only this evening."

_Vampires, _she thought to herself, suppressing a smirk. _Legends and fairy stories. _"I'll stay on the roads," she assured him seriously, "and I know some archery should I be attacked." This was something of an understatement: amongst her friends, Miri's skill with a bow was legendary. But a helpless maiden with a sick father drew far less attention than a woman who could hit a moving target in the dark.

Reluctantly, the guard stood aside and let her pass through the gates. Once she was outside the city, the noise and lights behind her, she allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. Castle Skingrad was in sight, and if she pulled this off right she would be on the way back to Anvil with the loot in her pocket before sunrise.


End file.
